


Folktales from the sea

by glowingatmosphere



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, brief description of almost drowning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27082234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowingatmosphere/pseuds/glowingatmosphere
Summary: An unusual stranger saves Phil from drowning.
Relationships: Dan Howell & Phil Lester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12
Collections: Im-PROMPT-u Phandom Creator Challenge 2020





	Folktales from the sea

The sun is beating down on Phil’s neck. The exposed skin between his short hair and the neckline of his white t-shirt must be a lovely shade of pink which will soon turn into an angry red. He’ll most likely have an agonizing night trying to position himself so his neck doesn’t make contact with the pillow.

He’s all alone in a fishing boat, gently swaying in the sea, close enough to the shore that the boat is visible, but to anyone struggling to see him he would look like a tiny abstract shape. He wishes he could sail farther away but his anxiety about being lost keeps him from straying too far.

He’s grateful no one questioned where he was going and what he was planning to do with the boat since everyone knew he had no interest in fishing. They made lighthearted jokes, warning him about the merpeople that patrolled the waters, waiting for people who just sat in their boats idly. Phil smiled to be cordial and said he’d be careful, but he knew they were just teasing him for going out to sea just to be by himself. It wasn’t the first time he heard their folktales. A small village like this one had all kinds of stories to entertain locals and tourists alike. So he tolerated it and sighed once he closed the door behind him.

He’s also grateful that the sea is calm and the movement of the boat isn’t making him sick. He can endure the slight discomfort that’s nestled in his belly if it means he can be alone for a bit, away from the noise of a house full of human voices and activity.

There’s a jacket tucked in a corner, stored there for the cold wind, and Phil decides to grab it and put it over his head to protect as much of his skin as he can. He must look ridiculous to anyone right now, with his legs pressed together, his arms lying crossed on his thighs, and a dark green, salt-stained jacket draped over his head.

But no one is here. No one but him and a bunch of small fish swimming close to the surface, which are safe from him, though he can’t say the same about the seagulls circling the boat and dipping down for their breakfast. Phil’s breakfast is still located safely in his stomach and he’s relieved because he can remain here as long as he wants.

Phil’s plans might need to change though, as grey clouds are steadily absorbing the white ones and a slight breeze ruffles the hair falling on his forehead. He doesn’t do anything at first, even when he feels a few droplets fall on his face and create dark dots on his shorts. He’s already protected by the jacket draped over his head and back. The weather has been pretty decent the past few days and he hopes it’ll clear out soon.

The sudden swing of the boat and the lurch in his stomach caused by the motion changes his mind. He stands up to go into the little cabin and bring himself back to the harbour, but he feels sicker than he thought. Tiny grey dots explode in his vision and he feels incredibly dizzy. He knows he’s going to fall down on his face if he doesn’t find anything to steady himself with, and he goes to grab the edge of the boat.

He barely registers the terror he feels at his hand completely missing the spot. The boat tips toward the side he’s on and he feels his body being pulled down by gravity, hurting his ribs on the ledge before he hits the water.

Despite his clumsy limbs, he’s a decent swimmer, but the dizziness, combined with the shock of falling over, have left him completely defenseless and incapable of doing anything other than kicking his legs with no purpose and grabbing handfuls of water as if he can claw his way to the surface.

He’s panicking. He can see the grey light above him and he can’t reach it and his lungs are aching because he didn’t manage to take a deep breath before he got submerged.

He sees movement out of the corner of his eye: a blurry shadow gliding straight towards him through the dark water. He has no fear left in him at the unusual sight. He knows he has to hold on to the last bit of breath in him, but his brain is severely deprived of oxygen and he can’t do anything but let go as his exhausted muscles relax and his eyes close.

-

He wakes up with his wet clothes clinging to his skin. The sand is rough under his arms and calves, and the sun is once again high in the sky, pleasantly warming his face. His eyes sting and his throat aches, he’s incredibly thirsty and the inside of his mouth feels painfully dry. After a minute of confusion, the memory and physical sensation of almost drowning makes him shiver. He coughs a few times, more so to expel the memory of almost drowning from his head than to get rid of any water in his chest. He takes deep breaths just to feel them fill his lungs.

He props himself up on his elbows and eventually sits up. He’s all alone on the sandy shore. No boat or anyone else in sight. He turns his head to try and figure out his location, and flinches at the sight of someone he didn’t see before. The stranger starts walking towards him slowly and Phil’s hands tremble. His instinct is to run because they’re completely naked—and incredibly nonchalant about it—and the closer they get, the more Phil can see that they don’t look quite right.

The stranger kneels down beside Phil and looks into his eyes. Phil stares back with wide eyes at the sparse fish scales that adorn their beautiful face. They are light blue and opalescent, changing colours as the stranger breathes. They remind Phil of the blue water shimmering under the sun. Their skin has a pale bluish tint and slightly darker blue lips. Scales cascade down their body and completely cover their legs. The gills on the side of their neck and ribs flare occasionally.

Phil thinks he should feel threatened, but he’s stunned. He stays still, fearing that if he makes a sudden move he’ll scare this incredible creature away. His heart starts beating faster when the stranger lifts their hand and touches Phil’s face. He can feel the thin, transparent web connecting their fingers on his cheek. Their other hand lands on Phil’s chest. Phil feels steady, safe, comforted. This creature, this person, won’t hurt him.

“You saved me,” Phil states. It must have been them. He couldn’t have been carried by the current and washed ashore.

The stranger looks at Phil with perpetually wet, brown eyes. They nod. At least they can understand him.

“Are you a merperson?”

The stranger nods again, keeping their hands in place. They move forward and Phil thinks he’s about to live one of the myriads of romantic folktales he heard as a kid and be kissed by his saviour, but the stranger just touches their forehead with Phil’s. It’s profoundly comforting and Phil feels more connected to this stranger than a kiss would make him feel.

“Thank you,” Phil whispers.

The stranger leans back, gets up on their webbed feet, and starts walking towards the water. Phil feels an intense anxiety pang at the realization that the stranger is leaving and probably never coming back. Phil would have no way of finding them again and he’s not going to risk putting himself in danger just to be saved again.

“Wait!” Phil shouts desperately, getting up on his own feet. “Am I going to see you again? What’s your name?”

The stranger just smiles and continues walking until they are knee-deep in the water. They dive underwater and that’s the last Phil sees of them. He stands there for several minutes, hoping foolishly that they might come back. But the surface remains still, the waves uninterrupted.

Phil makes his way back home, preparing for his family to worry over the state of him and ask him a million questions.

-

A few hours later he’s walking down to the harbour where all the boats are lined up, floating idly on the calm surface. He and his father are planning to use a friend’s boat to find and retrieve their own. When they make it down, Phil halts and blinks surprised. The spot where they tie their boat should be empty, but it’s currently occupied by the same boat they were about to search for.

Phil’s father looks as perplexed as his son, but he laughs and affectionately embraces Phil with one arm. “Are you sure you left the boat in the middle of the sea?”

He feels irritated at his father’s insinuation, but he can’t deny what they both see in front of their eyes. They step on to check that everything is okay, and after he promises to be back for dinner, Phil sends his father away, wanting to sit at the docks by himself. He walks across the harbour towards the end of the docks and sits down on the beach.

The moment he decides that he’s had enough playing with handfuls of sand, a head pops out of the water. Phil’s heart flutters.

The merperson stands up in the water, scales shimmering, radiating otherworldly beauty. Phil now has his own folktale to tell. But maybe this one he will keep to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Thank you Val @hiddenpastry for betaing <3 You can find me @glowingatmosphere


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